January 11th, 2009
"Damon? Guess who's fat and wants to suck this dick."
I could hear the snickering of Johnnie Graham's posse as he asked me another one of his revolting questions that usually ended in a clever 'you' or 'YOUR MOM!'
Sighing, I replied with unwillingess and sarcasm in my tone, "Who?....My mom? Or is it me this time?" I turned to face him and his 'squad' (as he calls it) hoping to hear what other amazing things his little brain can come up with.
"No!" He told me in a contrary manner, "I was gonna say your....your dad!" I scoffed while two of his goons patted him on his back for...heaven knows what. It wasn't even clever, they never were.
"Okay."
In return, (as has been the norm for quite a while after each short interaction morning session) Johnnie flicked his fingers at the back of my head leaving a stinging sensation. I'm shocked that I was not immune to those inflictions after he had done it so many times. He then called me a 'Gay Faggot', threw the book that I was previously reading on the floor, before leaving with his crew. As expected that kind of hyperbole would have of course be enunciated from the mouth of that hooligan. It didn't seem like a good use of an exaggeration. It didn't even sound gramatically correct. Yes I know what you're thinking. Who cares if he used 'gay faggot' in the same sentence? Who cares if it doesn't sound like any of the marvellous devices of speech used in Shakespeare or other literature books? Well frankly I care. I really do. Guess that's why they call me a nerd. SUE ME!
After snapping out of my thoughts and trying to recollect the page of my novel on which I had reached, of course you know, BEFORE being SO rudely interrupted, a girl, who appeared to be noone of my knowing, walked into the classroom. Her large almond eyes that were a tint of grey and green were begging me to pay attention to her. Her hair was frizzy and had been kept in a not so neat ponytail. The coarse curls at the end of her hair and the distinct tan of her skin gave me the impression that she was mixed. Maybe African American and Caucasian? Who knows? I didn't care. For the first time in my life I didn't ponder on something that I wanted to figure out. Her beauty was just too great to question it. The fact that at such a tender age of ten, I'm able to finally feel a heartstruck sensation towards someone scared me but also intrigued me. This left a small sort of crease at my lips which soon turned into a smile.
I observed the time on my wristwatch and noticed that it was ten more minutes before school commenced. Students were now starting to file into the classroom, and the once quiet and calm atmosphere turned into that of a flee market. This time though, the conversations of most of the students revolved around "Who's that girl? or Have you seen her before?"
I can see that the murmurs of the pupils were affecting her. She was constantly fidgeting in her seat, trying her best to ignore the students who had been staring, by looking at her fragile hands in her lap. I didn't know if the amount of time that I took to observe her was too long or not, but I soon found out after she had shared the same split second of a glare that she gave the other kids to me. I looked away after that occurrence. The time where I wasn't looking at her, I hoped that class would begin, so that I'd have something else to focus on. It seemed to go on for an eternity though.
Brrring. The bell rung. Finally.
Mr. Rushworth, whose name was the total opposite of what he was exactly, took an extra five minutes to do other 'errands' (as he says) before coming to class. He walked into class with his dirt stained glasses hanging from the right pocket of his shirt, one hand holding a pile of notebooks and his other hand scratching his head, or rather his thoughts as hair did not exist on that platform. He wore a miserable, tired expression on his face like every other day. This was denoted by the frown lines that were plastered across his forehead, and at the sides of his eyes and his mouth.
"Good...um...morning class. Uhhh..." He rubbed his eyes with the middles of hus thumb and index fingers before continuing. "Right. As I wss saying, we have a new student who will be joining us today. Her name is uh....what's your name again sweetheart? " His left arm was stretched outward in front of the girl as an indication for her to say her name.
"D-Daniella Perkins," she said inaudibly. If it weren't for my keen sense of hearing, I probably wouldn't have heard what she said. My statement was true as Mr.Rushworth had to ask her to repeat her name for the whole class to hear.
"D-Daniella Perkins. My name is Daniella Perkins," she said much more audibly and clearer than before. Her tone though, was laced with a sort of fear and had a hint of shyness behind it.
"Well Daniella, why don't you decide to tell the class about yourself. I mean this IS the 3rd of the second term so I'm pretty sure we can squeeze in a little time for you to introduce yourself." He leaned over her, which caused her to sink down into her chair. "It's kind of a 'new kid joins class' kind of procession if you know what I mean."
I could see she was reluctant to muster up the courage and tell the class about herself, but Mr.Rushworth held an expression which was almost too good to make you back out of the situation, so I'm guessing out of 'not disappointing him's sake', she got out of her seat and stood in front the class.
Her hands were held right below her torso at the back, clasped in a really weird position and her right foot was positioned in a forward cross above her left foot. She cleared her throat and then began to speak. "My name is Dan- Daniella. I'm ten years old, like uh, most of you I presume. I um, my birthday is on the 19th of July...not that any of you cared but yeah. I like to read and...."
She paused for a while looking straight ahead at Johnnie and the other boys in the back. They wore neutral, bored expressions, but she held a face filled with fear as if their presence was intimidating her.
"That's all," she quickly cut off before rushing to her seat. Everyone gave her a strange look, including Mr.Rushworth himself, who was perpexled as to why she abruptly stopped. To not waste time I guess, he ignored it and thanked Daniella for speaking before continuing with his work.
In the background, I could faintly hear the whispers of the three musketeers Ally, Sally and Nelly who were the most popular girls in my grade. They were talking about getting to know her better before they can decide whether she should be treated like 'a normal' or 'a freak.' To them, I was a freak. To me, they were just egotistics who liked to judge people for no apparent reason, which of course, shouldn't be the case. I mean they aren't the best looking or best behaved fish in the sea, and their doings were quite peculiar to me, so naming me a freak was a little confusing. Since I'm an apparent outcast, my opinions were as relevant as a piece of lint stuck to my clothing. They were eventually discarded from the minds of students and so trying to stop those girls from what they're doing was quite impossible.
As I did my work, I took each chance I got to look at Daniella. She had been doing her work as efficiently as I would do work. She appeared as if she had a great interest in learning which further increased my liking to her. She was shy, which I thought was sort of cute and her small frame which I guess was similar to mine, made me less scared to actually want to partake in a having a conversation with her; something that I'd never thought I'd want to do with a girl. I sensed that she was hiding a lot, and that further influenced me to have a greater interest in her. To know about her, to see what she likes and maybe someday be her friend or a little more than that.
After thinking about her for a while, I thought that it may not be a bad decision if the musketeers decided to label her as a freak, because that'll give me a better chance of getting to know her. It was something that i wanted to achieve and I know I'd never give up on it, even if it takes me years. With the thought of her actually being more than just an unimportant entity in my life, I continued doing my work, but this time with a happy, newly matured and refined heart.
(Hey guys, comment here telling me how this sounds so far :) I'm gonna unpublish this chapter soon when I think it has enough opinions and stuff so that I may continue writing. It's not edited btw.)
